


Regrets & Promises

by afteriwake



Series: For Queen And Country [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Annoyed Molly Hooper, Comforting molly, Complicated Relationships, Embarrassed Molly, F/M, Fade to Black, Fake Character Death, Hair Dyeing, Kissing, Lap Cuddles, Missions Gone Wrong, New Relationship, POV Molly Hooper, Past Sexual Encounter, Plan A Failed, Poor Molly, Promises, Protective Sherlock, Regret, Relationship Discussions, Returning Home, Sherlock Feels Guilty, Sherlock Has a Plan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 17:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11063982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Plan A didn't go the way they had hoped, and now they are moving on to Plan B, which means a long road back to London. This has left Sherlock with regrets for how their relationship, whatever it truly is, came to fruition in Las Vegas. Molly wants to dispel those regrets and doubts as best she can.





	Regrets & Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NSquared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NSquared/gifts).



> I originally had a prompt for this fic, claimed by **NSquared** , but when I wrote it, it ended up veering away from the prompt and I ended up liking the end result much better so I kept it. I do hope you enjoy!

San Diego was still a long way from London. And they were to arrive by a circuitous route, over time. She wanted to yell at that, demand to go home. Home was safety and comfort and all of this was just...not.

Or at least most of it wasn’t.

The things that had happened in Las Vegas surprised her. She was surprised she had allowed herself to do all of that with Sherlock, and more than that, to _enjoy_ it. They had been facing the possibility of death, and they still were, and she’d shagged him on the shag carpeting after…

She felt herself flush as she thought about it and grow warm and felt other parts stir. Not the time, not the place. There might be time for it later, maybe, possibly, but now was not it. If they were lucky, their time in San Diego would be short. Long enough to get a decent nights rest in a bed, with some semblance of safety. She hadn’t slept a wink when they’d been smuggled through the desert from Nevada to California, but there had been whispers that the act hadn’t been bought about their deaths at the hands of the mob so flying from San Diego was out.

Sleep was in, brief as it would be, then a long drive ahead of them and, well, _this_.

Her hair would never forgive her, but at least she hadn’t had to cut it. And at least she had enough experience with colouring to go blonde in a way that didn’t make her look like a two-bit strumpet.

She wrapped the towel around her hair and went out to the single bed in the motel room. She and Sherlock had both worn hats and sunglasses when the room had been gotten for them, so no should recognize them. Walking out with curly blonde hair in the morning for her and short ginger hair for him...she hoped it was enough. But it was still a shock to see him with all the curls she’d loved so much gone and such a bright shock of colour against his skin.

“I’m done,” she said. Now that they’d been intimate and all, there was a sense of something that told her she needn’t cover herself completely, but still. Part of her wanted to hide. She hadn’t wanted _this_. She had wanted him, always wanted him, but not this way. And so she wore a shirt that smelled of him and a pair of boxers she filched from him and she half wished it was a set of full pyjamas so he couldn’t see the skin he’d touched not that long ago with fingers and lips and tongue.

He nodded, and that was when she noticed he looked...she didn’t know. Similar to her, perhaps. The time in Las Vegas there was a sense of triumph. He had claimed her as his but now...perhaps he had regrets as well. Hesitantly she went to the single chair in the room where he was sitting and balance on the arm. “You deserved better.”

“Sherlock...” she said quietly.

“We both did.” He ran a finger along her thigh, idly tracing shapes on the bare skin. There was nothing titillating about his touch; in contrast, it was comforting. “This was all a mistake. Agreeing to take this on for my brother, his asking you, punching the bastard… We should be in London. We should be going through our normal routines and--”

“Playing around at what we felt by ignoring it?” she asked. She felt a little irritated for some reason. “Sherlock, I knew there was a risk, I did.”

“You’ll _always_ be at risk, Molly, don’t you see?” he said, looking up at her. “Always. You can’t go back to your old life, not entirely. Neither of us can. It will be like Mary. She only got away so long. We’ve mixed ourselves up in this and there isn’t a way to escape. I was a fool to agree.”

After a moment she slid off the chair onto his lap, feeling the warmth of his thigh between his trousers and her bare skin. She pulled her legs up, just curling into him. He was at a loss for a moment, but soon he wrapped his arms around her. “We’re together, though,” she said. “You were alone before, with Moriarty. And that had an end. A protracted end, but an end. This will have an end, too.”

He nodded before resting his forehead against hers. “I will keep you safe, Molly, until we can return home. Whatever’s asked of us, I’ll make sure we can return home together. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she cradled his face in her hands before kissing him softly. She knew there would be no easy end in sight; the fact that there were those who didn’t believe them dead meant they needed to be careful and round them up. She knew that without it being spelled out for her. But if they were together, she thought to herself as the kiss began to get more heated and his hands started to wander under the shirt she wore, then she had faith they would be fine.


End file.
